Stolen Innocence
by ValentineRose28
Summary: ALL HUMAN! Max was raped, then found on the side of the road by Fang and his little sister. After being taken into their home, can she learn to handle the demons that haunt her, or will she fall through the cracks?
1. Chapter 1

**A/N ALL HUMAN! Max was raped, then found on the side of the road by Fang and his little sister. After being taken into their home, can she learn to handle the demons that haunt her, or will she fall through the cracks? Read to find out!**

**Max: 16**

**Fang: 16**

**Iggy: 16**

**Nudge: 16**

**Gazzy: 9**

**Angel: 6**

**Stolen Innocence**

**CHAPTER 1**

I walked down the street and turned at a dirty alley. I limped to the very back and sat down, throwing my shoes next to me.

"_Shut up. You know you want this. Stop struggling."_

I could still fell the weight of him on me. Feel the roughness of his hands as he gripped my arms.

"_Stupid whore, say you want this! SAY IT!"_

His harsh words echoed in my ears. I knotted my hands in my hair and leaned against the dirty, grimy wall.

"_You tell anyone, you're dead. You hear me? DEAD"_

I looked at my dirt-smeared hands and hugged my knees to my bruised chest.

"_Oh, look, the great Maximum Ride. Crying? Not as strong as you want everyone to believe are you?"_

Suddenly I couldn't stand it anymore. I stood up and slipped my shoes on. Then, I ran. It hurt like hell, but I ran as fast as I could, trying to get rid of this nasty, dirty feeling I had. I ran until my vision got spots in it and I passed out cold, on the wet streets of New York.

I dreamt of him. Of his dirty hands all over my body. Of his cracked lips against my bare neck. Of his awful breath fanning across my face. The picture swirled until I felt sick with the dizziness. Then everything faded into inky darkness…

I awoke with a start to find that I was laying a crisp, clean hospital bed and wearing an ugly blue hospital gown that didn't close all the way in the back. I looked around blearily, the events of last night coming back to me. My eyes filled with tears. I can't believe this is happening.

"She's awake!" someone whispered at my side. I looked over to see a blond haired blue eyed girl peeking over the edge of the bed at me. My brow burrowed in confusion. I looked behind her to see a guy who looked to be about my age, clad in black and watching me quietly.

"Who the hell are you?" I asked, wincing when my voice came out hoarse and weak instead of mean and strong like I'd wanted it too. She regarded me with those wide blue eyes and answered in a calm high voice.

"I'm Angel. Who are you?" she blinked innocently.

"None of your business, that's who I am." I answered, rolling over and wincing at the deep ache that arose in my bones. I felt a small hand tap my shoulder and I flinched away from it.

"Why are you so mad at me? I didn't do anything to you." she whispered. The boy got up and left, probably to get a nurse.

"I'm not mad at you, I don't know you." I said, not rolling over to look at her. I heard her stand up and walk around to the other side of the bed.

"I told you, I'm Angel. What's your name?" she asked again, staring at my bruised face.

"Max. Why are you here with me?" I asked, narrowing my eyes at her.

"My brother found you on the side of the road. He said you were sleeping. Why were you sleeping on the side of the road?" she asked me, leaning her head to the side. This little girl wasn't afraid of me even though my first words were "Who the hell are you".

I decided I kinda liked her.

"Cause I was tired." I said, giving her a small smile that ended up being a grimace. My lips were chapped and cracked and bleeding. The little girl, Angel, sat on the edge of my bed and picked up my hand and played with my fingers.

"Angel, are you bothering her?" said the emo teenager as he was coming back into the room.

"No. This is Max, and she was sleeping on the side of the road cause she was tired." Angel said matter-of-factly. He laughed at her and ruffled her hair. She straightened it, then turned her light blue eyes on me.

"Max, if you were tired why didn't you just go home and sleep in your bed?" she inquired.

"I don't have a home."

"Why not? Don't your mommy and daddy have a home for you to live in?"

"No." I said quietly. She just smiled at me. I was surprised to note that her teeth were all perfectly white and straight.

"Ok, Angel, no more questions. Get off her bed." the boy said.

"No, it's fine. She can stay." I said. She was warm, which was weird because I couldn't really feel anything. I felt kinda numb. A nurse walked in while I was thinking about this.

"Here, sugar, take this and this." she said, handing me two pills.

"What are they for?"

"One's the day-after pill so you don't get pregnant and the other is in case the man who raped you had any diseases." she said, then handed me a glass of water and left. I froze when she said "raped" and turned slowly to look at Angel's brother. His dark eyes were wide and his mouth slightly agape.

"Did she say-"

"Drop it. It's none of your business." I cut him off harshly. He snapped his mouth closed. I took both the pills and gulped the water. Angel just kept playing with my fingers, and it actually didn't bother me much.

"You can go home now, if you'd like. You don't have any major injuries." the same nurse said, coming in to un-hook me from all the monitors. After she was done, I went to the bathroom to change back into my dirty clothes.

"I'm Fang, by the way. The doctors released you into my Mother's care, so you have to come home with us apparently." he said.

"What? I don't know you! Why the hell would I go home with you." I asked incredulously.

"You have to. At least, you have to let them see you get in the car and drive off with us." Fang shrugged.

"Max! Please come with us! I want you to meet Gazzy and Nudge and Iggy and Ella! Please?" she gave me bambi-eyes. My little brother used to do that…before he died. He and my parents died in a car crash. I was driving.

"S-sure." I stuttered, surprised by the sudden trip down memory lane. I could still hear the screech of metal on metal, the crash of glass, the creaking when the car literally got bent in half.

"Yay!" she squealed, clapping her hands together.

"Hi. I'm Dr. Martinez. You are?" asked a kind looking woman who just walked into my hospital room.

"Max."

"Hello, Max. Let's go, I need to get dinner on the table." she ushered us out the door. I walked a little ways away from them, and scooted as far as I could get to the window when we were in the car. Angel just looked at me with concern on her little face.

"Max, would you mind staying with us, just for tonight? I want to make sure you're ok. The doctors wouldn't tell me what was wrong with you." Dr. Martinez said, looking at me in the rear view mirror.

"I dunno, sure I guess." I muttered, staring out the window at the rain.

"Great." She smiled kindly.

"Max, do you want to sleep in my room tonight? I have bunk beds, but I only use one. The top one. Do you?" Angel asked.

"_You're sleeping in here tonight. And, if you try to run away, I'll find you."_

I knew I had a deer caught in the headlights look on my face because Angel suddenly looked frightened.

"I mean, you don't have to or anything. It's fine, you wont hurt my feelings." she said quickly, biting her lip. Fang looked at me from the front seat. I shook my head stiffly and tried to forget about it. Everything reminds me of him, and not in a good way.

"I-I will." I whispered. She smiled hugely at me, and started drawing pictures on the window. We pulled into a driveway that was connected to a little cookie cutter home in a stupidly perfect neighborhood.

Typical.

"Come on, Max!" Angel called, grabbing my hand and pulling me from the car. She lead me inside to a little pink room with white furnishings. In one corner there was a little dollhouse. Just like mine was when I was 6.

"Ok, so you can sleep on the bottom. I think you would fit into one of Ella's nightgowns, if you want to borrow one. Ella is my sister, and she is 16." Angel said, playing with a small pink teddy bear.

"Sure why not." I muttered. She caught me staring at the teddy bear.

"This is Sandra. I got her when I was 2, but now I'm 6 and Fang says I'm almost too old for a teddy bear. But what does he know? At least that's what Nudge says." she giggled. This child was…strange. She didn't let anything scare her, but she was still sweet and cute. Like I said, strange.

"Max, are you hungry?" Angel's mom asked, sticking her head inside her room.

"Um, kinda?" I said, just as my stomach let out a ferocious snarl. She smiled warmly and gestured for me to follow her downstairs.

"Are you…you know, ok? Fang told me why you were…in the hospital." she asked gently. My defenses immediately went up.

"I'm fine. Thanks for letting me stay here and everything, but I would really appreciate it if you would just please drop it and stay out of my business." I said through my clenched teeth. She looked surprised at my forwardness for a moment, then her face cleared of all emotion except sympathy.

"I understand. I'm sorry. I'll back off." she said, then lead me to the kitchen.

"Thanks." I said as she put a bowl of hot soup in front of me. I ate it all, then stuck a straw in the bowl and drank the broth.

"Do you like chocolate chip cookies?" she asked suddenly.

"I'm not sure. I've never had one. Why?" I muttered.

"I'm gonna make you some." she said determinedly. I just shrugged. Shoving my chair back, I got up and left the kitchen, making my way back to Angel's room. On my way there, I ran into another girl who looked to be about my age and had coffee colored eyes and dark brown hair, just like Fang.

"Oops, sorry. Didn't see you there. I'm Ella, who are you?" she asked, holding out her hand. I stared at it until she pulled it back.

"None of your business. Bye." I pushed past her and went into Angel's room.

"Hi, Max. Do you want to play with me?" Angel asked, looking up at me from where she was sitting on the floor in front of her dollhouse.

"Would you mind of I just watched right now? I'm kinda tired." being with Angel was easy. She didn't want anything from me. She didn't ask me questions, didn't ask if I was ok or if I needed anything. It was kinda nice.

"Sure that's ok, You can sit on the bed and watch." she got up, grabbed my hand, and led me to the bed. I laid down gently since I was still sore. Angel went back and started playing with her dollhouse again and I watched for a couple of minutes before my eyes fluttered gently closed and I fell into a deep sleep.

**A/N So, should I continue? This could actually end up being one of my favorite stories that I have written.**


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N So I haven't updated in a while. I'm sorry. I don't really have many excuses, just that I've been super busy and crap. Anyways, it's summer now so I'll be updating a lot more often.**

**By the way, don't read this chapter if you are disturbed easily. It's really not bad at all, I just wanted to give everyone a fair warning: it implies rape. **

**Stolen Innocence **

**Chapter 2**

**The Nightmare That Came True**

"_Well, well, well. Look who's here. It's Maxie." he smiled with his disgustingly crooked teeth._

"_Go to hell Chris," I said, rolling my eyes and taking a long drag on my cigarette._

"_Come on, you wanna go upstairs?" he slurred. I looked at Rachael and laughed._

"_With you? Please, not even if you were the last guy on earth."_

"_Aw, baby don't be like that!" my friend, Rachael, giggled and stood up._

"_I'm heading out guys. See you." she called over her shoulder as she made to leave._

"_Bye Rach." she left, the door clicking shut softly behind her. Chris looked at me in a weird way._

"_Now that she's gone, can we go upstairs?" Chris asked and nuzzled his face into my neck._

"_No, Chris. You're drunk," I laughed and shoved him away from me. I snubbed my cigarette out and stood up and started towards the door. _

"_Where do you think you're going?" he grabbed my hand, his tone suddenly angry._

"_I'm leaving. See you tomorrow." I yanked my hand out of his and walked towards the door again. He grabbed me around my waist and pinned my arms to my sides. I struggled to get away from him but couldn't._

"_Chris! Christopher let me go!" I screamed just before he covered my mouth with his hand. This was very bad. I weighed exactly 103 pounds. He weighed probably a little over 200. There was no way I could get out of this._

"_Now, you are going to be a very good girl Max. You aren't going to scream, and you aren't going to struggle," he whispered in my ear._

_My breathing pitched and my heart raced, but not in a good way. He grabbed my shirt and ripped it up over my head then bound my hands behind my back and taped my mouth shut. I kicked my legs and squirmed all over the place until he got so frustrated that he backhanded me across the right side of my face. My lip split open and , scarlet blood trickled down onto my chin. I stared wildly at Chris and breathed desperately through my nose, with my nostrils flared_

"_Damn it Max! I said to stay still!" he yelled in my face. He slipped my jeans down over my legs and-_

"Max wake up! You're scaring me! Please, wake up!" A little girl voice yelled from somewhere above me. My eyes snapped wide open and I sat up screaming. Angel screamed in return. The door opened and Fang came running in. He flipped the lights on and I looked around wildly.

"Hey, come on calm down!" Fang laid his hand on my shoulder to calm me, but it just made it worse.

"Don't touch me!" I wailed and jumped back from his touch. By now everyone had piled into the room and Angel had jumped down from the top bunk to run and hide behind her mother. They were crowding around me, trying to figure out what was wrong. I couldn't breathe. Too close, they were all too close.

"Max, what is going on?" he tried to calm me again by laying both hands on top of my shoulders, but I started crying and shaking my head frantically.

"Don't touch me! Don't touch me!" I yelled over and over again, taking deep, gasping breaths. Fang held his hands up in an "I surrender" move and backed away. Angel, on the other hand, ran over to me and threw her arms around my neck. Her touch was different. Soft, baby smooth. Girl-like. It didn't frighten me. I clung to her and cried, still hyperventilating. What's happened to me? I never cry. Never ever. Why is my vision spotting?

"Don't touch me, don't touch me, don't touch me," I whispered. The room swam before me.

"Shhh, it's ok," Angel whispered and patted my hair softly. I was trying to draw air into my lungs, but it still wasn't working.

"Max, look at me, "Dr. Martinez said quietly and moved closer to me "you need to calm down. Deep breaths. In…out…in…out." I stared at her calm brown eyes and did as she said. In…out…in…out.

Everything was quiet. The only noises to be heard were the sounds of everyone's sofft breathing, and my gasping and sniffling. Angel's hair was damp where my tears had fallen.

"Max, are you ok?" she asked slowly, sitting back to look at me.

"I'm fine." I sniffed and swiped at my eyes with the back of my hand. Dr. Martinez stroked my hair once before turning and leaving, along with that Ella girl. Fang stood and watched sadly, not saying anything.

I lied. I wasn't fine, and I never would be. I laid back down and closed my burning eyes. Angel scooted in next to me and I clung to her. She held my hand and stroked my hair. I drifted off to sleep once more.

"Max, Max wake up! My mom made breakfast. Are you hungry?" a soft voice said into my ear. I opened my eyes slowly to find Angel hovering above my line of vision. I sat up and flung my legs over the side of the bed. She grabbed my hand in one of her tiny ones and pulled me to my feet.

"Good morning Max." Dr. Martinez said as we walked into the kitchen, not looking up form the stove. I plunked down at the table and she placed a plate in front of me that was buried in pancakes, bacon, and eggs. I picked up a fork and began eating hungrily. I barely got enough to eat, usually. What I told Angel hadn't been a lie, I didn't have a home. Well, not one that I felt comfortable staying in. It was a foster home, and not a very good one at that. There was rarely enough food to feed us all and the actual home itself was filthy. So I wasn't around often. Not that anyone there ever noticed or anything.

Everyone around me was silent. Not even the sound of scraping forks could be heard. I looked up hesitantly to see that everyone was just staring at me. The expressions on their faces ranged from horror to rage (that was Fang. I couldn't figure that one out…). There were three faces that I didn't recognize from last night. One tall, strawberry blonde who looked to be about 16, another 16 year old with corkscrew curls and mocha colored skin, and a younger kid who was almost an exact clone of the strawberry blonde. The Ella girl was staring at me, hands over her mouth, with tears in her eyes. I winced, and noticed for the first time how sore my face was. And, now that I thought about it, my entire body felt like it had been run over by an eighteen-wheeler. Just how bad did I look?

I finished my first plate of pancakes and stood as Dr. Martinez placed another in front of me.

"Um, where's your bathroom?" I whispered, not meeting anyone's eyes. Angel pointed me in the correct direction, and I turned and walked swiftly towards it. I could feel their eyes burning holes into my back as I went, but I didn't turn and look back.

I closed and locked the door behind me, then turned to face myself in the mirror. My reflection startled me so much I actually jumped. I leaned on the counter and pressed my face so close to the mirror that it fogged up, so I had to use my sleeve to wipe away the condensation.

My hair was a reck. There were snarls and tangles that I would never be able to get out of the waist-long mess. He had used it as a hand hold to keep me from running away.

The left side of my face was sore with a dark purple bruise that stretched from my forehead to my chin, and there was a little cut above my right eyebrow. My lips were split from where He had backhanded me to make me stop moving. I gently touched my reflection as a tear rolled down my mottled cheek. The right side of my face had four little cuts, all in a row. Like cat whiskers. From when He slapped me, digging his revoltingly long nails in to add extra discomfort. I looked down and could see bruises blooming out of the neckline of my tee-shirt.

I grabbed the hem of the shirt and slowly lifted it off over my head, but I didn't look down. I wasn't ready to see just yet. I closed my eyes and tilted my head downwards so that when I was ready, all I'd have to do was open my eyes.

I took a breath, and forced my eyelids open…and gasped. My ivory skin was patterned with bruises of all sizes. My torso literally had hand prints on it. It looked like someone had dipped their hands in black paint and smacked me with them. I lifted my arm up to the light to examine it further. A bruise wrapped all the way around my thin wrist. I put my hand up and wrapped it around, trying to place my fingers exactly as He had. Looking down, I realized that the bruises disappeared into the waistband of my jeans. I stripped them off my legs, only to discover that they looked the same as my torso. Hand prints, and then some oval shaped ones too. From being kicked. And punched.

Oh God, I looked disgusting. No wonder they were all staring. Tears flooded my eyes.

I feel disgusting. Dirty. Like I can still feel him, crawling under my skin. Whispering in my ear…telling me that I deserved it. That I deserved everything he was doing to me. Nausea boiled low in my stomach, and I threw myself at the toilet and proceeded to vomit up my breakfast. I collapsed on the rug, shivering, but too miserable to put my clothes back on. A cold sweat broke out on my skin, making me even more freezing.

A sharp rap on the door shook me out of my daze. I sat up quickly and cleared my throat.

"Who is it?" I croaked.

"Angel! Are you ok?" a small voice yelled from the other side of the door.

"Yeah, I'm fine. Could you go get your Mom? Please, Angel. Tell her to bring first aid stuff." I said, leaning against the door. I needed her to get me band aids and stuff for some of the cuts and scratches on my face and body. I didn't even bother getting dressed. I figured she's a doctor, so why should I even care, right? Plus, she needs to fix me up a bit.

"Max, it's me. Let me in." I had slid down the wall into a sitting position, so I had to reach up to unlock the door. My whole body was screaming in protest every time I moved around.

"Oh my God…that sick son of a bitch." she breathed when she saw me, lying there, with all of my wounds on full display.

"What's wrong? Are you ok, Mom?" I heard Ella ask, before she shoved the door open and gasped. Shit, I forgot to close that.

Her eyes grew wide and her hands flew to her mouth to muffle her shriek.

"Oh my God." she said, then kneeled down next to me.

"Please, just leave." I whispered, and she stood and fled the room. Dr. Martinez closed the door and turned the lock with a snap. I shifted so that I was facing her, but still leaning on the wall.

"Max, do you need to talk?" she asked softly.

"No, I'm fine. I just need you to help me clean up a bit, and I need a few pain meds. I don't need to 'talk'" I said sarcastically. She lifted my right arm gently and began bandaging a particularly nasty cut on the underside of my forearm. I winced slightly when the alcohol touched the slice, but other than that I tried to keep my face clear.

"I'm sorry, I was just asking." Ok, now I felt a little bad. She had done nothing but help me, and yet I've been rude to her. Too bad. I'm not letting her in. I'm not getting close to these people, because as soon as I do, they're just going to stab me in the back. It's happened before.

By now she had finished both arms and was working on the little scratches on my stomach and chest, around my ribcage. After a moment of hesitation, she looked up at me.

"I think I'm going to need to wrap the whole thing. Your ribs seem pretty bruised, and I think you'll be more comfortable if they're wrapped up nice and tight." she looked at me questioningly. I shrugged and turned around, then unclasped my bra and reached back for the wrap. I felt her put it in the palm of my hand, then started wrapping it around myself until my chest was completely concealed. Then, I slowly turned back around so she could continue until almost my entire torso was covered with the beige colored Ace wrap.

"There you go, all better. Tonight, after you shower, I can do it again for you." she said, then stood and left the room so I could dress. I slid my shirt over my head and put my pants on, then left the bathroom to get some ice for my face.


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N Well...here it is! Lol, I don't really know what else to say so...here it is! Haha...**

**And by the way, does anyone know what WWACB stands for? I read it the other day and I could't figure it out haha. **

**One more thing, I don't remember if I ever said what color Max's eye's were for this story but they're Hazel. **

**Random song track for this chapter-**

**Stand in the Rain by SuperChick**

**Amazed by Lonestar**

**Courage by SuperChick**

**Jar of Hearts by Christina Perry (Perri or Perry? I don't remember...) I think that's it. Lol. I'm sure there were more...**

**Stolen Innocence chapter **

It's raining. I'm sitting in Angel's room, staringat the angry gray sky through the window. It looks like it's crying. I wish I could cry. I'm not able too, not since that first night in this house. These people have already seen me too weak.

It's been almost a week since I came to the Martinez home. I don't come out of Angel's room unless there's no one else in the house. I don't ever talk to anyone, I don't bathe, I don't even eat.

The rain looks so inviting. Everyone went to the movies. Maybe I'll just go outside for awhile.

So I just get up and leave. I walk right out the front door, shutting it softly behind me, and just...walk. The pouring rain soaked deep into my skin, drenching my clothes and immediately chilling me to the bone. I pull my sleeves tight around my hands and wrap my arms around my torso. I can feel the goose bumps rise on my flesh, but I don't actually feel cold. Not really. I don't feel much of anything anymore. I'm just numb.

The raindrips off my eyelashes and into my eyes, blurring my vision and making it even harder for me to tell where I'm going.

I don't know how long I've been walking, but eventually I come to the little neighborhood playground. It has a swingset. Ari and I used to love to play on the swings that we had in our backyard.

Once I was pushing him on one of them. He kept screaming "Higher! Higher!", so, I pushed him higher. As high as I could. We were both shrieking with laughter. He let go of the chains connecting the seat to the railing above it and went sailing high into the air. I was still laughing...

Until he started crying, that is. I raced over to him and searched his little body, looking for any injuries. He pitifully held his arm out for me to look at. I t was bent at an awkward angle, and whenever I even made it look like I was going touch it, he sobbed harder. I scooped him up and raced inside and deposited him on the couch before running to call my Mother.

She didn't answer her phone. I heard gasping and wheezing from the living room and my heart thudded in fear. I grabbed Ari's inhaler from the cabinet and sprinted back to give it to him. His eyes were widened with alarm and he was struggling to get air into his lungs. I held the inhaler to his lips and pressed the button. He inhaled deeply, but couldn't hold on to it like he was supposed to. He exhaled the medicine in a big gust and kept fighting to breathe.

I picked him up and ran next door to Mrs. Franklin's house. She drove us to the emergency room.

Ari's arm was broken and he had had a severe Asthma attack. They put a dark blue cast on his arm and he let me sign it with a black Magic Marker. We sat in an empty hospital room and ate off-brand Jello while watching crappy television until someone got ahold of our parents.

It seemed like Ari always got hurt around me. He was my baby brother; I was supposed to protect him.

But instead I killed him. I fucking killed him in that stupid car crash.

I break out of my reverie to find myself still staring at that playground. I crunch across the pebbles until I reach the swingset. A flash of lightning streaks across the sky and turns the playground into a land of shadows and menace. The swingset looms over me, and rain drips onto my lips, and i run my tongue over them, tasting the cool drops before they disappear. I ball my hand into a fist and punch the iron railing once, as hard as I can. I felt my knuckles split open and blood ran down my finger nails onto to ground, but the pain doesn't register.

Then, I turn around and back to Dr. Martinez's house.

Apparently, I was gone much longer than I orginially had thought. Everyone was sitting in the living room, looking very worried. Angel was in Fang's lap, her arms around his neck and her face burried in his chest. When I shut the front door, her blonde head jerked up quickly, almost hitting Fang's chin.

I stood in the entryway with rainwater running down my blody and onto the hardwood floor. Angel jumped off of Fang's lap and ran up to me then threw her arms around my waist in a hug I didn't bother to return. She stepped away slowly, looking rather hurt by my lack of response.

Too bad. People close to me get hurt. The solution? Don't let anyone else get close.

"Max! Where were you?" Dr. Martinez demanded, anxiety creasing her face. I blinked and strode past her, up the stairs and into the bathroom, slamming the door behind me.

"No, just leave her alone." I heard someone, Fang I think, murmur as I left the room.

I stripped my dripping clothes and left them in a pile on the white lenoleum. I turned the shower on as hot as it could go, then stepped under the scalding jets and let it wash the filth from my sore body. I tried not to look at myself as I cleaned up, but it was kind of hard not to. My ribs were still tender to the touch, and the bruises covering the rest of my body were begining to turn green around the edges. Physically, I was healing.

Emotionally? Mentally? Not so much...every night I had horrible, vivd nightmares. Some were so real, I'd wake up covered in icy sweat and start shaking. Sometimes Angel will crawl under the blankets with me. It's getting harder to be around her. She reminds me so much of little Ari...

So I don't sleep much.

The burning water was turning my abused flesh a bright, rosy pink color. I scrubbed at my body was red and raw and even bleeding a bit on places. But I still could not get _clean_. I felt dirty, filthy...

_Violated. _I bite back a sob and scrub harder. I can still smell Him. His scent was embedded in my skin, laced through my hair. The water starts to run cold and i shriek with rage and dispair. How am I supposed to get Him off of me with cold water? I shut it off with a snap and step out.

The bathroom is completely steamed up. I swipe my hand over the mirror to wipe away enough of the fog so that I can see my pathetic reflection.

My hazel eyes stared back at me, blank and empty. The bruising on my face was slowly turning green, and there were dark bags under my eyes from lack of sleep. My hair was a knotted mess down to my waist. I found a comb and ripped it through my tangled tresses.

The tugging sensation reminded me of...Him. He fisted his filthy hands in my hair to make me lie still. I couldn't get away because it is so long. I hated it.

I wrapped a fluffy white towel around my still-dripping body, not caring about the smears of blood that were bound to get on it, and left the steamy bathroom.

Fang was downstairs in the kitchen when I got there, eating a sandwich at the table. I ignored his look of confusion as I rooted through the drawers.

"What are you looking for?" he asked, standing slowly so as to not spook me I guess, and walked closer. I continued to ignore him and dig around in drawers.

I'll give him this: he's a persistent little bastard.

"Max, what are you looking for?" he asked, slowly and clearly, as if he was takling to a foolish child. If there was one thing I absolutely was _not_, it was a child. I didn't acknowledge his existence.

Until he stepped right up in front of me.

Too close. He's too close to me. I felt my senses shut down as my breathing hitched in absolute terror. He's touching me. I gripped the towel tightly in my trembling fingers. I stared up at him, my eyes flashing in what I hoped _he_ thought was anger. It was really fear.

"Got your attention," he murmured softly. The funny thing was: he didn't soung very smug. More apologetic. My nostrils flared. Now i was angry; I didn't need his pity. "What are you looking for?"

"Scissors," I hissed between my teeth. I whirled away from him to continue looking through drawers. "And don't touch me. Ever." i threw over my shoulder angrily.

I froze as Fang's arm reached around in front of me and opened the next drawer to the right. It brushed against my stomach as he pulled it away. I yelped and and tripped backwards right into his chest.

His arms automatically go around me to keep me from falling over. I yelp again, like an injured poodle, and slither away from him. I place my back to the counter and press as close to it as I can get.

Fang stared at me, his eyebrows raised in concer and alarm. I stare at his face, my eyes wide in fear, because for a second, it _isn't his face_. It's Christopher's. I'm not in Fang's beautiful, comfortable home. I'm in Christopher's trashed apartment. I open my mouth mouth and scream in utter terror and close my eyes as tight as I can. So tight it hurts and I see stars behind my lids. My scream sputters and dies out, and I feel arms go around me. I scream again, flailing my limbs and yet still keeping hold of the towel. I yell "Let me go!" over and over.

I picture Christopher violating me over and over. The picture runs never-ending through my mind. I start hyperventilating. I'm so, so scared, because he's going to hurt me again. I just know it.

The arms stay around me, strong and warm. I inhale deeply through my nose to prepare another shriek, but something stops me. The smell...the smell is different. I don't smell the odor of stale cigarettes, rank B.O., or foul breath. Instead I smell spearmint toothpaste, and clean soap and warm men's cologne.

I open my eyes and find that it's not Christopher holding me down, it's Fang, just holding me. The terror leaks out of my body, leaving me weak with relief. My legs wobble then go out from under me completely. But Fang's arms keep me up.

Well, almost all of the terror leaves me. I'm still scared. I don't like him, or anyone else, touching me.

I shake like a leaf against him.

"Please stop touching me. Please just _stop._" I whimper. He does and I qiuckly step away.

He hands me the scissors that I had been looking for. I take them then very slowly, making sure he's watching my every move, gather my hair into a bundle at the nape of my neck and lift the scissors and snap the blades shut.

The hair comes away in my hand. I place the scissors on the counter, their blades glinting darkly against the light, then throw away the bundle of honey blonde waves that was nothing to me except another way to be hurt.

"Don't ever touch me again," i hiss, not exactly to Fang. He tilts his head to the side, and I know he knows I didn't mean him. I shake my chin-length hair out around my face.

Then I leave to get dressed, but not before seeing the dispair and deep sadness in his dark chocolate eyes.

**A/N Just real fast, I'd like to point out that I, fortunately, have never been sexually abused in any way. And I am so devestatingly sorry for those who have. And I mean no offense what so ever to any of you if i get any of the emotions or information incorrect. **

**I'm so, so sorry again. : (**


	4. AN

**A/N So this isn't another chapter. But it is very important, so I really want you to read it.**

**Something happened today that really kind of bothered me.**

**I got a review about an hour ago that said (and I quote) "o mi gawd yuh r lik da wurst riter evr!1 i hatd it soo muc. yuh sukk!11". I removed the review, so don't bother looking for it. I have just a few things to say to this asshole:**

**First of all- Flames **_**aren't**_** accepted, they **_**aren't**_** welcome, and they're **_**not**_** nice. If you don't have anything nice to say, then keep your freaking mouth shut. Thanks.**

**Second of all-****If you have something to point out about my story that you didn't like, say it like a normal human being with a basic understanding of the English Language. **

**And third of all- Even if you **_**were**_** to flame my stories (which, as I explained above, I do NOT like), you need to at least leave me a name, email address, or something that I can use to get in touch with you with. Anonymously flaming me is not only wrong, it's cowardly. Obviously, you don't have the guts to tell me I suck with a signed review. And if you think there's something wrong with my story I would want to know why, right?**

**I don't think I've ever really blown up at anybody over FanFiction. I am usually a very happy person who can let things roll off of her like it's nothing. But when you insult me in a way such as this, I can't just let it go.**

**Although, I might've taken it more seriously if it wasn't completely incoherent...**

**Oh well. A girl can dream of a world where people can actually talk correctly, can't she?**

**And I'm sorry to everyone who had to endure this rant. I just wanted to make sure that moron knew what I thought of his "totuly horibl revew". See what I did there? Sometimes I even make **_**myself**_** laugh...**

**And by the way, if you hated my stuff so much, why read all the way to the third chapter **_**and **_**take the time to review and tell me it sucked? That makes no sense to me. At. All.**

**~VR28**


	5. Chapter 4

**A/N This might be kind of short, but it's just kind of a filler chapter. **

**DISCLAIMER: I NO OWN! GOES FOR THE REST OF THE STORY!**

**WARNING: This chapter is just a tab bit more graphic than most, so if you get disturbed easily, I suggest you skip the paragraph about Christopher. It's real short, and italicised (spelling?). **

**Stolen Innocence**

**Chapter 4**

"Max, will you play with me?" asked a small voice. Without looking away from the window, I shook my head. The sun was shining bright today, evaporating the puddles of rain water leftover from last night and yesterday afternoon.

"Please?" Angel whispered. I looked down at her; she was holding her teddy bear, Sandra. I closed my eyes and looked away.

"Maybe later, ok?" I murmured, my voice hoarse. Walking around in the rain yesterday left me with a slight chill. I probably had a fever or something.

"Ok..." I turned to watch her leave, those small shoulders slumped, and her teddy bear dragging on the floor. I snuggled down deeper into the comforter wrapped around my shoulders.

There was a window right by Angel's bed, so I could sit there and stare out of it all day long if I wanted to. And I did want to. There's always things going on outside; winds rustling the leaves, birds singing in the trees, chidren running and laughing.

I brushed my ragged hair away from my face and sucked my lower lip between my teeth. I usually only bit my lip when I was nervous, but now I seem to do it all the time.

I feel bad for telling Angel that I didn't want to play with her, but she just reminds me so much of Ari with all the little things she says or does. Thinking about him makes me go into another place- one where he's not dead and I'm not...broken.

Because that's what I am- broken. I feel like I'm falling to pieces, and there's no way for me to stop it.

I hear a throat being cleared behind me, so I angle my head slightly to the left.

"Do you need anything?" a soft, female voice asked. Ella. Normally I would just tell her to leave, but my throat is so sore and I don't really feel like getting up.

"Water?" I croak, and she leaves quickly. I try clearing my throat, but it's like gargling broken glass. I pull the soft blankets tighter around my shivering body and lean my head against the sturdy bed frame.

"Here, you didn't look like you felt very good so I brought some soup too." I turned around and she placed a tray on my lap. It held a blue bowl pull of steaming liquid, and a plastic cup of water.

I picked up the bowl and held it close to my face, inhaling the scent and letting the warmth calm me. Ella watched me with intelligent light brown eyes.

I ate the soup in silence; I was too hungry to talk (not that I had any desire to anyways). When it was gone, I placed the bowl on the tray and then the tray on the floor, and Ella put the water on the nightstand. I shifted positions so that i was laying down and the blankets were tucked in around me. My short hair fell across my face, spilling onto me cheek and tickling my nose. I wanted to push it away, but my hand felt as if it weighed a hundred tons. Ella came to stand by me.

"Max, I think you have a fever. Would you mind if I checked real fast?" she asked gently. I nodded slowly.

Her cool hand pushed against my burning forehead gently, and I recoiled in surprise. She did it again, then touched my cheek lightly. Somehow, when another girl touched me it doesn't feel as horrible. Still bad and uncomfortable, but not like I want to vomit with disgust.

"Wow, you feel pretty warm to me. I'll go get some Tylenol. Maybe that will help..." she turned and left the room quickly.

I was asleep before the door clicked shut behind her.

My dreams were crazy, technicolored things. None of them made sense- they were mostly just shapes and blobs, swirling spinning around. It was incredibly nasueating, and I woke up gasping.

Nothing made sense when awoke either. A cloudy figure loomed above me.

Christopher? Oh my God, how did he find me? He's going to kill me! He's going to hurt me again!

I screamed and the person above me started shaking me by my shoulders violently. My scream dissolved into incoherent murmurings. I was trying to tell Christopher to stop, to just leave me alone, but my lips felt thick and clumsy, and my tongue lolled about uselessly inside my mouth.

My eyes looked around wildly, but everything was foggy and slighty tinted green. The walls were going in and out of focus, and the world narrowed down to just a fuzzy gray tube. I felt a sharp, hot prick in my arm and then calmness flooded through my aching body.

The next time I woke up, I was bathed in sweat. It soaked the blankets on top of me, ran down my face, and made my clothing stick to my body. I flung the blankets off of me. I was laying on the couch in the living room, with Angel sitting on the floor by my head, watching TV.

She looked up when she heard me shift around.

"Momma, she's awake!" Angel called. I moaned softly- my head felt like someone threw me face-first into a brick wall.

Dr. Martinez came into the living room from the kitchen.

"Max, how do you feel?" she asked, her warm searching my face.

"Bad. Water?" I rasped. Dr. Martinez nodded at Angel, who jumped up and ran to the kitchen.

"Max, you have the flu. Your fever spiked very high, and I was actually just about to take you to the E.R.," as she talked, I looked her over- she was dressed and had her shoes on and tied, "but the fever broke about thirty minutes ago." she sat on the arm of the couch and brushed my damp hair away from my sweaty face. I flinched away and ignored the hurt look in her eyes.

"Don't touch me," I muttered and licked my chapped lips. Angel came back with the water and stuck a bright green bendy straw in it.

She held it to my mouth so I could sip the water without sitting up. I nodded my thanks and closed my eyes.

"Angel, could you go play for awhile? I want to talk to Max," Dr. Martinez said.

"Ok, Mommy," Angel replied, then smiled and left the room.

Dr. Martinez and I sat in silence for awhile, before she took a deep breath and looked at me.

"Max," she began, "you don't need to be afraid of me. I'm not going to hurt you. I might not know exactly what happened to you, but I do know that you're hurting. Please, I don't want you to be frightened around me, or anyone in this house." she looked at me earnestly. I swallowed, hard. She reminds me so much of my mother...

"Dr. Martinez-"

"Please, call me Valencia."

"_Dr. Martinez,_" I said firmly, "please. I'm sorry if offend you at all, but I just...can't help it. I'm afraid," I whispered the last part so quietly, I'm not even sure if she heard me. "And I know you mean well, but I just...can't." I roll over so that my back faces her, then close my itchy eyes and drift back to sleep.

This time when I wake up, my stomach rumbles furiously at me. It's dark outside and nobody'd aroound. A quick look at the clock on the wall behind me tells me that it's almost midnight. My stomach growls again, so I rise unsteadily from the couch then grip the arm of it for a few moments until thee room stops spinning. Then, I go to the kitchen and rummage around in the refrigerator.

As I'm about to pull out some leftover pizza, the lights flicker on above me. I spin around quickly to Fang standing by the door, his right hand on the lightswitch, the other rubbing his eyes.

"Hey, what are you doing up?" he asked sleepily as both hands fall to his side. His dark hair is sticking up in all different directions, and the left side of his face is creased with pillow-lines.

Also, he wasn't wearing a shirt.

I stand there, terrified, as the frigid air from the refrigerator wafts out around my bare feet, making goosebumps race along my spine. I close my eyes tightly and horrible images begin to flash behind them.

_Christopher, his horrible, nude form hovering above me; the ground, hard beneath my aching skull; the ceiling as I try to look anywhere other than his face as it contorts with sickening pleasure. _

I feel bile rising in my throat, and I fling myself at the kitchen sink.

Fang tried to hold my hair back, but I shudder violently at his touch, and shove his hands off of me.

He stands there though, until my retching subsides. The he hands me a cool, wet washcloth. My body convulses with disgust as his hand brushed against mine, and the washcloth slips from my hand and onto the floor with a splat.

My whole body is shaking in fear, and from the cold. In a corner of my mind, I think that maybe my fever has come back.

My hair falls across my face in a protective curtain over my right eye as I look down at my feet.

"Max?" Fang whispers softly. I look up at him wide-eyed through my hair to see him reach a hand towards me. I flinch back, but he doesn't stop.

"Don't, just don't. Please," I gasp desperately. I don't want him to touch me again; it makes me feel sick and dirty. His fingers gently grasp the hair in front of my eye and moves it behind my ear. As he pulls away, his hand trails along my jaw bone very lightly. The place he touched me burns as if someone had held an open flame to my skin. I jerk away, inhaling sharply. I place both my hands on his hard chest and shove him away as hard as I can, the skin of my palms crawling as it comes into contact with his warm flesh.

"I said _don't_!" I hiss. "_Don't touch me!_ I don't like it, and it makes me feel like-like-" I break off, gulping air to keep me from crying. I've already shown so much weakness in front of him. I close my eyes tightly and try to focus on breathing.

"Max, I'm not him," Fang murmurs. That shocks me into opening my eyes again, and I take a stumbling step back.

"No, you're not," I agree quietly. "But you're close enough. and, eventually, you'll do just what he did. Betray me, hurt me, and destroy me. Now, _leave me alone_!" I run past him, through the living room, and out the front door.

The summer air was warm on my chilled skin. I went to the same playground as before and climbed into the yellow slide. A violent cough shook my body, and left my throat even more sore. My eye, hot with fatigue, closed and I fell asleep.

**A/N Wow, you guys. I'd just like to say thank you to all of the people who gave me words of encouragement after my little...blow out in my Author's note chapter. I was really kind of upset about it, and you all made me feel a lot better about it. **

**Second- Oh my gosh, I have only posted 4 chapters and already, there are 101 reviews! You guys are amazing, and I am honestly so very gratefull (pretty sure I spelled that wrong...) to all of you. Thank you, so much.**

**~ Valentine : )**


	6. Chapter 5

**A/N Hey guys. I would just like to say how extremely sorry I am for not updating. Ever since school started, I have been so freaking busy. And then there was NaNoWriMo...**

**I finished my novel. And it was a mind-blowing experience to be able to write the last page, paragraph, sentence, word, period. And I have decided to edit it as quickly and as effeciently as I possibly can, and then submit it to the Amazon Breakthrough Novel Award Contest on January 23rd. The winner gets a publishing deal with Penguin and 15,000 dollars, but it's a 1/5000 chance.**

**It's also an amazing opportunity to get my manuscript out there. Even if I don't win the contest, I still have a chance of getting picked up by Penguin, which is thrilling to even think about. I'd like to thank those of you who have encouraged me during the difficult month of November (you know who you are), and those of you who continue to encourage me in my editing process as well. **

**I also want to thank everyone reading this right now, for not giving up on me in my many months of absense. I am determined to finish every story on my profile, eventually. And I hope you all will be there to see me through it : )**

**So here's the long-awaited chapter! Huge thanks to Rebekah for editing this this morning so that I could post the edited edition : D**

I woke up to the sound of my name being called. My neck was cramping from the awkward position I had been sleeping in, and my throat was terribly sore and swollen. I climbed stiffly out of the slide and made my way towards the person (who was Ella, in case you were curious) calling my name. She looked relieved at finding me.

"Max! Thank God I found you. We were starting to think you'd left for good. Everone's been looking for you for ages." She grabbed my hands and, ignoring my flinch of fear, gave me a quick once-over. I must have looked pretty bad, though, because her already-wide brown eyes widened even more.

"You're so pale. Come on, let's go home," she suggested softly. And when she put her arms around my shoulders to lead me back, I didn't even flinch at the contact.

Dr. Martinez looked relieved as well. When she saw me, she collapsed into a kitchen chair and held her head in her hands. Fang stood over her and stroked her hair. I thought she was crying, but when she looked up, her face was flushed and her eyes wild.

"Where the hell did you go?" she asked, venom in her voice. My heart squeezed, then sped up.

"Mom, calm down," Fang said.

"I-I-I-," I stuttered.

"You had everyone in this house worried sick, and you didn't even care, did you?"

"Mom, stop!" Ella yelled.

I stood there, just staring at her. My jaw was locked shut, and I fought to clear all emotion from my face.

"Answer me, Max!"

"You're scaring her!"

_"Answer me!" He yelled._

I clenched my eyes shut. Ella held my hand tightly, oblivious to the fact that I was about to have a major melt-down.

"Max! Answer me!" two hands gripped my upper arms and shook me. My head snapped back, sending pain down my neck. Ella and her mother started arguing, jerking me around. Fang eventually joined in, telling them both to shut the hell up.

I let my legs go limp, and sank to the ground in a heap. I figured that if I acted as uncooperable as possible, they would leave me alone.

Eventually...

Ella let out a frightened shriek, and followed me down, since she was still gripping my hand

I felt their hands working frantically over me; they were shaking me, poking me, trying to pull me into a sitting position. I blocked it all out, though, and tried to think of happy things. Tried to think of anything but what was happening right now, and what had happened...then.

Ari popped into my head. His sweet smile, his clear blue eyes, his bubbling laugh.

"Let's get her on the couch. I think she's having an anxiety attack."

For the first time I noticed how rapid my breathing had become. I didn't care. I squeezed my eyes shut even tighter and tried to bring Ari's face back into focus.

I had the sensation of being weightless for about five seconds, and strong, warm arms were under me. I sagged into the soft comfort of their couch cushions.

"Max look at me. Open your eyes, and look at me."

I opened my eye lids until they were just barely slits, and saw a fuzzy outline of Fang.

"You need to calm down before you pass out. Breathe in through your nose and out through your mouth. Ella, go get a paper lunch sack out of the kitchen. She needs a bag to breathe into," he said, pointing to the kitchen. Ella raced off, and I heard the sound of drawers opening and then slamming shut as she looked for the bags.

I tried to do what Fang said, but I didn't seem to be in control of my own body anymore. I don't even know why I was panicking- I wasn't even anxious anymore. It was like this wasn't even happening, or that it was happening to someone else besides me.

Fang was talking, his eyes boring into mine anxiously. I wondered briefly what his real name was, and then I wondered why the hell I was wondering about his name in the middle of an anxiety attack.

"Fang, move over," Dr. Martinez said. "Give me the bag. El, get Dr. Robertson on the phone."

"But she's a-"

"I know what she does!"

I heard the crunching of the bag, and then it was covering my mouth. The rapid breathing continued, but the fog in my brain started to clear.

"Are you okay now?" Fang asked, after I had calmed down. I ignored him, and stared at the ceiling. My face burned red with humiliation. I had just collapsed in front of these people. How much weaker could I get?

"You guys watch her and make sure she doesn't freak out again. Hello, Dr. Robertson? Yes, hi. How are you? I was wondering about..."

Her voice faded as she walked down the hall and slammed her bedroom door shut. I just laid there, my head sinking into the pillows, and stared at Ella and Fang, who stared at each other.

I shivered and tried to push myself down further into the couch. Fang stood and grabbed a blanket, then gently covered me with it. I pulled it tight around my body and looked up at him.

"Thanks," I murmured. He nodded.

Dr. Martinez came out of her room, pulling her hair up into a ponytail and securing it with a dark brown scrunchie.

"Ella, I need you to come with me. We have a few errands to run."

"But Mom-"

"Let's go. Now."

Ella sat there, stunned. Something told me her mother had never spoken to her like that. Or, at least not frequently. She picked herself up slowly and walked towards the door, stopping once to send a confused look back at Fang and me.

The slam of the front door echoed awkwardly, and seemed much louder in the silence between Fang and me.

"Can I get you anything?" Fang asked. I pressed myself as far into the couch as I could and pulled the blanket up to my chin.

"Do you have and cold medicine?"

"Let me check." he jumped up from his place on the floor next to the couch and ran down the hall. I heard pills clacking against their bottles as he shuffled through the medicine cabinet, and then he came back with two green tablets.

"All we have is NyQuil. Is that okay?"

I nodded and poked my hand out of the top of the blanket. He plopped the pills in my palm, his fingers dancing over the soft skin there. I jerked my hand back at his touch, effectively dropping the pills and making them roll under the couch.

Fang sighed, then dropped to his knees and searched for them. I mentally smacked myself for being such a damn scaredy-cat. He barely even touched me!

"Here."

I reached out and took the pills again, careful not to touch him this time.

"You want water?"

"Actually, I like taking medicine with orange juice, if you have any."

He laughed, and went to get some.

"Why was that funny?" I asked when he came back. He set a large glass of orange liquid on the coffee table in front of me, then sat cross legged by the corner. I sat up, shifting the blanket so that it was still around me, and downed the juice and the pills. I set the empty glass back on the table and pressed the heels of my hands against my hot, tired eyes.

"I'm sorry, Max," Fang whispered. I looked up, wondering what the hell he was talking about.

"What?"

"I'm sorry I scared you last night. I'm sorry that I can't even touch you on accident without you panicking. I'm sorry that he-"

"Stop. Don't say it. Do not say that word."

"Max, what he did was wrong. It's a crime. He ra-"

"_Stop!_" I wailed, clapping my hands over my ears. As long as he didn't say it, it wasn't true. What Christopher did wasn't...wasn't _that_.

"Max, I see what it did to you. I might not know a thing about you, but I see the look in your eye when you start thinking about him. All the color drains from your face, and your eyes go wide and...they're just full of fear. And you know what's sad? That's the only emotion that's ever there." He shook his head, and scooted closer to me so that I was looking down at him from my place on the couch. His eyes were pleading me to talk to him.

"I...I'm still...scared." I bit my lip and wondered if I should go on. Sharing anything would just give him more to use against me later. But I felt like if I didn't talk to someone, I would explode. "Everytime I close my eyes, I see his face. I can still smell him. I can still...feel him. He's under my skin, in my clothes." I closed my eyes and shuddered. I felt Fang's fingers graze my hand, like he was about to take it, and pulled it back. "Please don't do that."

"Max, just look at me. Please." I swallowed and chanced a small peak into his dark, dark brown, almost black, eyes. "I. Am. Not. Him. He is a sick, sick person who is going to rot in hell for what he did."

"But it was my fault," I whispered in a small voice. I wasn't even sure he heard me until his face completely shut down.

"What? What the hell did you just say?"

"Nothing. Can we...talk about something else. Please?" Even I could hear the desperation in my voice.

He stood and switched from the floor to the couch. I curled up against the arm on the opposite side, facing him, and he sat facing me too.

"What do you want to talk about?" I asked, after a period of silence.

"Where are you parents?"

His question made my heart hurt. It felt like a giant weight was pressing down on me from all sides. I knew the feeling well-

Guilt.

"Next question."

"Do you have any siblings?"

"Just one. A little brother. His name is Ari."

Okay, so technically I wasn't lying. I just wasn't...telling the whole truth, exactly. It's easier to talk about Ari as if he were alive than how he really is. Murdered, by his own sister.

"Really? What's he like?"

"He's the most amazing little kid. He has blonde hair, like me, and blue eyes from our mother." my heart squeezed as I thought about my beautiful momma. "And his laugh is like...the most beautiful sound. Like everything good and pure in the world all mixed up in one wonderful little sound."

"Sounds like you really love him." He smiled at me, and I managed something less than my usual scowl in return.

"I do. He used to have this blue blanket that he carried around. He called it Gi-Gi. It was the dirtiest, rattiest thing, because he never let my mom wash it. Or even touch it for that matter." I looked down at my hands, remembering. For a moment, I wasn't hear. I had been transported back in time. I saw Ari, with his skinny little arms crossed over his chest, that nasty blanket cuddled in between them, and his face was stubborn. My mother kneeled at his level, begging him to give her the blanket just so she could wash it. I remember laughing while I sat at the kitchen table, trying to read but finding that my mother arguing with my baby-brother was so much funnier.

"You're so pretty when you smile," Fang said softly. I looked up, my eyebrows scrunched in confusion, my mouth in a hard line.

"What?"

"You were smiling, just then. That's the first time I've ever seen you smile."

I honestly had no clue what to say to that. I didn't even realize I had been smiling.

"I'm done talking." I pulled the blanket up and scrunched down under it, trying to lay down without touching Fang at the other end of the couch. He saw what I was doing, stood, and moved to the recliner, then flipped the television on. I stretched out and let the cold medicine do it's work. It had made me sleepy (which probably explained my loose lips).

"Fang?"

"Hmmm?"

"What is your _real_ name?"

He looked over at me, his eyes soft, and said, "It's Nicholas. Well, just Nick to my friends."

"Am I?" I slurred drowsily.

"Are you what?"

"...your friend?"

He smiled, just barely, but I saw it. "Of course you are, Max. If you want to be."

I let my cold-medicine ridden brain think it over, and decided- "I do."

The medicine finally got the best of me, dragging me under a thick fog. But, not before my mouth uttered something my brain gave it no permission to say. I don't even know what I muttered!

For the first time since what happened with Chris, I didn't have a nightmare. I dreamed about Ari, and my family. About the wonderful family we used to be. About all the things we did together.

FANG'S (BRIEF) POV

I watched as Max's eyes fluttered shut, then turned my attention to the football game on TV. Just as I was getting into the game, I heard a soft sigh come from the sleeping girl.

"Thank you, Nick."

I glanced sharply at her, but she really was asleep this time. Her mouth was open slightly, and everytime she exhaled, she puffed out a few strands of hair that had fallen in from of her face. When she was sleeping, she seemed so much younger. Her face shifted into a small smile, and it seemed to just light her up from the inside, even while she's sleeping.

I wondered briefly if she was dreaming about her brother. I stood quietly from the chair I was in, and kneeled by her head. I saw that she had a freckles sprinkled over the bridge of her nose. I gently, _gently_, moved the blonde hair in front of her eyes behind her ear. She shifted slightly, but didn't wake. The smile slid from her face, turning into a slight frown. Her eyebrows scrunched together, making a deep line between them.

"Oh, Max. I wish there was some way we could help you stop hurting," I murmured.

The girl sighed, almost as if she were agreeing with me.

**Love you guys. Oh, and Happy New Year!**


	7. Chapter 6

**A/N I…I don't know what to say. I'm sure half of the former readers of this have given up. And I'm sorry. More after the chapter…**

**Disclaimer: Disclaimed. **

**Chapter 6**

"A therapist?"

I stretched a kink from my neck, sat up on the couch, and stared at Dr. M. without blinking. Fang mumbled an excuse under his breath and disappeared out of the room like morning dew in the heat.

"Yes, Max, a therapist. I think what you're dealing with is a burden much too heavy for someone to carry alone."

"I don't have any money to pay for a therapist." Not to mention my lack of patience for adults, especially the kind that want to pry open my head and poke at my brain with their complicated words and shiny little pills that turns my thoughts to mush.

"I understand that. I contacted your foster parents last night, and we've worked out an arrangement. They will give me enough money for two sessions, which equals two weeks. That's about how long it will take to get a social worker to transfer your paperwork from their house to mine."

She beamed and looked at me as if she was waiting for me to jump up and down with joy. I didn't want her to be my foster mom. I didn't want to be any more of a burden than I already was.

"I don't want to get my head shrunk by some guy with a pedophile mustache and an ugly sweater that looks like it was made of cat hair." I laid back down and shoved my face into the couch cushions.

"Dr. Robertson is a woman, first of all, and I don't think she even owns a cat."

The couch sagged behind me, causing me to shift slightly into Dr. M. I flinched and tried to curl tighter, but there wasn't much motivation behind the movement and I let myself relax the tiniest bit.

"I'm not going." I pushed my face into the fabric harder, inhaling and smelling clean laundy detergent. The woman even washes her pillow shams.

"You _are_ going." She fixed her hair and straightened her shirt. "Or you can't stay here anymore."

My breath caught in my throat. Where else would I go? If I left, Christopher would find me; I knew he would. Icy adrenaline began to sweep through my body, making my legs feel like feathers. I couldn't let her know that I was scared- fear is weakness. And God knows I could stand to be any weaker than I already am.

"Whatever."

I pulled the afghan over myself and struggled to get it over my feet. It was an awkward angle, so when Dr. M.'s hands reach to help me, I let them.

"Your first appointment is next week, just so you know."

I didn't feel the need to justify that with a response. I felt her gaze drilling holes into my head for a few long seconds before she patted my ankles and slip out from behind them. I heard a door click shut quietly, and another opened. I pushed myself into a sitting position with shaking arms, and looked up in time to see Fang's dark head appear around the corner of the hallway.

"Is she gone?"

"Yeah."

He plopped down in the same chair he'd occupied earlier and studied my face. "So was she still upset?"

"If by upset you mean 'she's gone completely insane,' then yeah, she's still upset."

I closed my eyes and let my head flop against the back couch. My pulse was thrumming in my ears at having him this close to me without being able to see him, but I couldn't bring myself to care right now.

"How are you feeling?"

"Like I've been hit with a truck." I clear my raspy throat.

"Look, um, I'm sorry she's being so hard on you. You just really scared her when you took off."

I look up at him and furrow my brows. "Why? Why should she even care? It's not like I'm her kid or anything."

"When I was younger, my aunt died and the only available guardian left for my cousin was my mom. My cousin- Amelia was her name- took off the day after her sixteenth birthday and didn't leave a note or anything. A few months later, we found out she'd been killed. She was hitchhiking on the highway a few towns over and got hit by a car." Fang shrugged and looked away, discomfort obvious in the slant of his mouth. "She blames herself."

I was quiet; I couldn't find a single thing to say.

"I didn't mean to unload that on you. I just didn't want you to think she was being a hard-ass for no reason." He smiled half-heartedly and began to stand, but I reached out and placed a finger on the back of his hand.

We both freeze and times seemed to slow down. His skin was warm under my index finger; I could tell even though my touch is feather-light. My vision goes blurry from the lack of blinking. It's me who finally breaks the silent spell with a shuddering inhale.

"Could I maybe, um," I hesitate and look down, "See a picture of her or something?" I pull my hand back and put it in my lap.

I honestly had no clue what just happened. All I knew was that he was about to walk away, and I knew I wasn't going to call him back if he did. And, for some reason, I didn't want him to go.

"Yes. Of course." Fang looked at me with his eyes wide open, as if he thought that if he blinked I'd be gone. "Come on."

He gestures for me to follow him, and I drape the afghan blanket over my shoulders and traipse behind him.

What even happened? I went from screaming at him to never touch me to voluntarily touching _him_? And sure, it made me feel nauseous but I'm not crying or- or yelling.

He led me down the hallway to his room. I stopped right outside the open doorway, my toes on the line between bedroom and hallway, my heart pumping erratically.

Fang looked at me and nodded, acknowledging my refusal to enter his room, and respecting it. I sat down criss-cross and wrapped the blanket tighter around my arms. Fang rummaged around in one of his dresser drawers, pulling out socks and faded t-shirts until he found what he was looking for; a stack of photos, slightly worn around the edges. He mimicked my posture and sat across from me, on his side of the carpet. Our knees were almost touching. Not quite, but almost.

"This was her," Fang said, and handed me a photograph. It was a picture of a girl around my age, with dark brown, super short hair and thick-rimmed glasses. There was a piercing in her nose, and several more in each ear. She wasn't smiling, but she still looked beautiful.

"She was so pretty," I murmured, and held out my hand for the next photo. Fang's thumb brushed mine, and I felt him try to catch my gaze. I felt the muscles in my face twitch slightly, wanting to form into a mask of outright disgust, but I shoved the feeling away. I was practically shaking under the blanket, but I hoped he'd just mark it up to fever chills and move on.

I couldn't let him see me so weak anymore. I couldn't take the pity, to be honest.

The next picture features her and Dr. M. lounging under a shaded gazebo at the park. Amelia wasn't smiling.

And the next picture- Angel and her snuggling in front of the TV. But still no smile.

"I know what you're thinking," Fang said. "And you're right- she never smiled. Not after my aunt died." He pulled the next photo from the bottom of the stack and stared at it for a moment. His forehead creased as he looked- no, glared at it.

He turned it around and showed it to me. Amelia with her middle finger up at the camera, a silent 'fuck you' to the world. A gesture of hatred, sometimes of hurt.

"These were taken from a digital camera. My mom doesn't know I have them."

I glanced up from the photo and caught his eyes. They were deep and dark and all of a sudden, the thoughts in my head began to swirl too fast for me to keep up. He looked so sad and my heart clenched because for once, I didn't want to run away from the first sign of sadness. I wanted to tell him things would be okay, even though I, myself, knew that was bullshit. I wanted to comfort him in some way, but I couldn't touch him for more than a second without feeling as if something had crawled under my skin and was trying to rip its way out. What kind of person even has thoughts like that?

I was a worthless and pathetic excuse for a human being. And I deserved what happened.

While all of this ran around and around in my head, he kept my gaze with his, blinking slowly, not saying a word.

"I can't." I looked down at my blanketed lap. The fabric was quivering in time with my shaking.

"I know. And I'm sorry."

I heard him stand up, and I peeked at him between my spikey eyelashes. He moved to the bed and pulled his blue quilt from it, then stepped back to me and draped it around me. He even made sure he didn't touch me. At all.

Then, he set the pictures next to me, moved away, and shut the door with a gentle click.

I rested my head against it and let out a long breath I didn't even realize I had been holding.

**A/N I am a horrible, terrible person for not updating since…I don't remember. I can't believe I did this to you all. And I know most people won't even read the chapter. I know I certainly wouldn't. **

**As it says on my Author's bio page, I seem to have lost my enthusiasm for writing. So I decided to try and get that back in the way that I got it to begin with: FanFiction. So expect updates fairly frequently. **

**Again, I'm so sorry. I dealt with some weird personal crap and writing just didn't seem important. But now I realize I should've been writing, if not only to ease my frustration with myself. Please forgive me you wonderful people. **


	8. Chapter 7

**A/N Two updates to say how sorry I am :D But really, I am sorry. I know a lot of people didn't really read the last chapter, and I don't blame them much. **

**I don't remember if Max ever learned Nudge, Iggy, and Gazzy's names, but let's assume she did at some point in between the chapters. **

**Disclaimer: Disclaimed. **

**Stolen Innocence**

**Chapter 7**

After sitting on the floor outside Fang's room for so long my butt and legs fell asleep, I decided to drag myself, both blankets, and the stack of photos back to Angel's room.

Angel was sitting on the floor, a sparkly plastic tiara perched amongst her mane of blonde curls. She sang a soft tune under her breath while making two Barbie dolls slow dance in her hands across a make-believe dance floor.

I plopped down on the bed, huddling under the blankets and inhaling clean detergent smells. I propped my head up on my hand to watch her play for a minute before rolling over to face the wall and pulling the photos out of my blanket cocoon. I began to thumb through them, stopping frequently to study them closely.

One in particular almost made me smile- it was of a much younger version of Fang holding a tiny baby with downy-soft fuzz for hair. Angel as a baby, I assumed. Her mouth was open in a round, pink 'o,' and her pink pajamas covered her little feet and hands. She was adorable then, too. I flipped it to the back of the stack and continued to look through the glossy pictures.

There were a lot of Iggy and his siblings. It seemed like them and Fang and Ella were all inseparable. It was kind of amazing, actually, that a group of people could be so…happy.

I couldn't even remember what it was like to not fake a smile, but these people seemed to have an abundance of happiness. How was that fair?

My thoughts went back to Fang and his sad, dark eyes and I thought, _Well, maybe not an abundance._

"Angel, Max, and Fang it's lunch time!" I heard from the kitchen. Angel set her dolls down with care and turned to me, still wrapped up on the bed.

"Are you coming? I think my Momma made fish sticks for lunch and custard for dessert." She flashed her cute smile at me.

"No."

Her shoulders slumped a bit, but she smiled again anyways and nodded, then turned and flounced off. I lay there, alternating between staring at the slats of wood holding up the mattress above me and glancing at the pictures until I was done with the whole stack.

About forty-five minutes later, the door opened. I glanced over my shoulder to see Ella poking her head into the room. "Hey. My Mom had to go to work, but she said she was going to stop and pick up some movies on her way home and to text her what we wanted. Do you want anything in particular?"

I didn't answer, and flipped through the photos instead. My brain was getting dark and storm-cloudy again and I didn't feel like talking to anyone right then.

I heard shuffling, and then her hand shook my shoulder. I jumped, frightened by the sudden contact, and rolled away until my back hit the wall.

"I'm sorry. I thought you were sleeping and-"

"Don't touch me." I glared at her. "You scared the hell out of me."

We were both quiet except for the sounds of our rapid breathing. She lowered herself slowly to the floor and rested her chin on the bed by my pillow. I regarded her somewhat suspiciously, my eyes narrowing and nostrils flaring.

"Why do you do that?" she finally asked.

I sighed, and turned my face away so she can't see the disgust written all over it. She gave me the 'Oh, poor misunderstood Max,' look. I didn't want or even deserve her pity.

"Do what?"

"You know, flinch away from everyone like that?"

I rolled my eyes and thought that she might actually be a lot stupider than I thought she was. "Why do you think?"

"Well I know _why_. I'm not an idiot. But you're scared of even my mom and me. It's not like we would ever hurt you to way he did." She shrugged. "I just don't get it."

"Oh, screw off Ella," I mutter and close my eyes. I don't want to deal with her or my situation or even life right now. I just want to sleep and never wake up.

"You know what, just forget it. You push away anyone who cares about you, anyone who tries to help. But I'm done." She pushed herself off the ground, both of her knees popping, and turned to go.

"It's the callouses on your fingers," I said. She gave me a look over her shoulder, as if I were talking crazy or something.

"Excuse me?"

"The calluses. They make your fingers rough like his. Angel doesn't have any. That's why she can touch me and you can't." I rolled away from her and stared at the wall. The only sound I could hear was my pumping heart and the blood rushing in my ears.

"I play guitar. That's why I have them on my fingertips. My dad taught me to play a few years back."

She didn't mention her father often. I thought about pointing this out, but realized it might not be the best idea.

"Would you mind leaving me alone for a while?" I asked, pulling the blankets over my shoulder and tucking my nose underneath. I'd had enough talking for one day.

"Do you need anything? Water?"

"Actually, do you have any books?" I asked, my voice muffled by the fabric. I just wanted anything to distract me.

"I don't like to read so much, but my mom and Fang do. I'll ask them."

"Thank you."

She shut the door behind her when she left, leaving me alone with my thoughts. The more I tried to forget about him and what had happened, the harder it got to even breathe. His smell, his touch, his voice were all permanently ingrained into my memory. He was both everywhere and nowhere. I couldn't get away from him. And I was terrified that I never would.

"Hey, Max. We're all heading across the street to Iggy's house. Do you want to come?" Fang asked, about an hour or so later.

"Do I really have a choice?" I glared out at him from under my bundle of his blankets. They smelled like cologne, which should freak me out but, weirdly, doesn't. It smelled clean, not musty and gross.

"Not really. I was just asking to be nice."

"Of course." I sighed and wiggled out from under the covers, swinging my legs over and heaving myself up. The blood rushed to my head, and the room suddenly disappeared from in front of my eyes.

I could feel the ground tilting up at me, and my hands flew out to hold on to anything they could reach- which just happened to be Fang's shirt.

"Whoa, there. You okay?" He pulled me upright and then dropped his hands immediately, as if he didn't want to touch me for too long.

"Yeah." I took a deep breath and curled my fingers harder into his shirt. He still didn't touch me. "Yeah, I'm good."

I took two more seconds, no more and no less, before releasing his shirt and stepping back. The room was no longer spinning- thank God- but I could feel my face blush furiously. "I'm sorry," I said.

"Don't apologize."

We looked at each other without speaking. I'd touched him voluntarily and hadn't run screaming. My skin was crawling, my palms were sweaty, and I felt like diving back under the covers and never coming out. But I hadn't yelled or cried.

I was the first to look away. He cleared his throat and said, "So, um, are you ready to go?"

I shrugged, and kneeled down to pull my shoes out from under the bed. I'd stashed them there in case I had needed to get somewhere quick. Actually, in all honesty I'd put them there so I could leave if he came for me in the middle of the night. I could get away.

We walked across the street in silence, and went in through the back gate instead of the front door. We walked around the side of the house that opened up to a stone-laid pool with a waterfall dribbling over a stack of rocks. There were a couple deck chairs lining the side, shaded by a huge green umbrella. A table covered in plates of cheese and crackers and a pitcher of lemonade.

"Hey Fang!" Nudge yelled from the pool. "Come get in. The water feels great."

I couldn't see how that was possible, since there was still a slight chill in the air even though it was spring. But Fang stripped his shirt, throwing it to the side, and smiled at everyone in the pool. Angel has on bright pink water wings and a one piece bathing suit, and she was splashing around in the shallow end with Ella. Nudge was lounging on a raft with a book in her hands, and Iggy and Gazzy were throwing a foam water ball across the length of the pool.

"Do you want to see if Nudge has another swim suit you can borrow?" Fang asked me, his voice low so that only I could hear him.

I shook my head, my short, uneven hair brushing against my cheeks. "No. I don't want them to- to look at me, you know?"

He studied my face briefly before nodding. "Okay. Just sit up here. Eat some crackers. If you start feeling bad or weird, I'll take you back across the street. Alright?"

My heart tugged at the intense care on his face. "Yeah. Alright."

He nodded once and stepped away, taking a flying leap into the pool and sending water sloshing and splashing everywhere. Nudge shrieked as she was thrown off the raft, and her book flew into a puddle on the side of the pool.

She came up spluttering and choking. "Fang! You ruined my book!"

Fang flipped his dripping hair out of his eyes and gave her a wide grin. Iggy and Gazzy cackled in the background, and slapped him a high-five.

"Oh, hi Max," Dr. M. said as she came out of the house carrying another plate of finger foods. "How are you feeling?"

"Fine," I muttered. I still wasn't okay with her forcing me to talk to a shrink. I wasn't crazy.

"That's good." She smiled, then turned to everyone in the pool. "Hey, guys. Dinner's in fifteen. I suggest you get out and start drying off now."

"Momma, I want to stay in longer," Angel whined.

"Okay, five more minutes baby. Everyone else, let's go. Make drinks and help us set the table. Fang, will you stay with her? Make sure she doesn't drown." She winked at me over her shoulder and I surprised myself by giving a small smile in return.

There were various groans and complaints as Iggy, Gazzy, Nudge, and Ella pulled themselves out of the water and dripped all the way to the back door, where their towels were hanging over the railing on the deck.

"Fang, catch me!"

She scrambled out of the pool and ran to him, leaping at the last second and landing in his arms with a splash. She squealed with laughter, and I hid a smile behind my hand. Fang laughed and threw her up in the air. She screamed and hit the water with another splash.

After she came up and spit water all over the place, she yelled, "Catch me again!" Then she pulled herself over the edge and backed up. This time as she was running, she slipped and went down onto her hands and knees. We were all silent for about half a second before she started to cry.

"Oww!" she wailed, and sat back on her butt, cradling her hands against her chest. I could already see bright red starting to dribble from two cuts on her knees. Before I realized what I was doing, I was already at her side scooping her up into my arms.

"Hey, shh, shh. It's okay. We'll patch you up. Don't cry."

I closed my eyes and rocked her back and forth. She wasn't Angel. I wasn't screwed up. She was Ari and I was perfectly fine. I used to comfort him like this all the time, and I'd sing to him until he quieted. I took better care of him than I did myself.

I hummed a low tune, and she stopped crying, nestling her head under my chin. Fang was standing by my side; I hadn't even noticed that he'd gotten out.

She was heavy, and my arms were beginning to tremor. Fang noticed this, and silently held out his arms for her.

"Hey. You okay. Angel?" he asked as I handed her to him. I saw her blonde head bob in a silent 'yes.' "Alright. Let's go put some Band-Aids on your boo-boos."

He eyed me over her head and nodded towards the back door. I followed close behind, making silly faces at her over his shoulder. I got a small smile before she hid her eyes in his skin, her little hands clamped tightly around his neck.

"What happened?" Dr. M. asked as we entered the house. The kitchen was immediately when you walked in, and the dining room fed off it to the left. Everyone was sitting at the table, waiting for us I guess. It was very light and open inside. It felt comfortable.

"She slipped and fell. It's okay; we'll clean her up," Fang replied, and kept walking. Dr. M. looked at me and I shrugged, my face coloring slightly, before I hurried to catch up with them. We went through the kitchen into the hallway, and then entered the second door on the right.

Fang placed Angel on the bathroom counter, and then dug around under the sink until he came up with a blue first-aid kit.

I pulled a couple of tissues out of the box on the back of the toilet and wiped her eyes and held it to her nose. "Blow," I said, and she complied. I tossed the dirty Kleenex, rooted around in the cabinet above the toilet, and found a big, fluffy white towel. I used it to rub some of the moisture out of her hair and then wrapped it around her shaking shoulders.

"I'm c-cold," she whispered. Fang was sorting out anti-septic sprays and ointments from the box, still, so I lifted her from the counted and sat on the closed toilet seat with her on my lap. We rocked back and forth and I continued to hum the song from earlier. It was from when I was younger. My mom would sing it when I got fussy.

I had long since forgotten the words, though, and all I could remember was the tune. It was soft and slow and very, very calming. She wrapped her arms around my neck and sat sideways on my lap, her legs hanging off the edge. The blood was still running down her leg, but I tried not to look. It made me a bit queasy, to be honest with you.

"Here we go, Ang." Fang kneeled in front of us with a couple Band-Aids and a tube of Neosporin. "I'm just going to use a wet wash-cloth to clean it up, okay? It might sting just a little, but that's it after that."

She nodded into my neck, and I ducked my head to hum softly right in her ear so that she wouldn't focus so much on what he was doing. I felt her tense up with the cloth touched the cuts, and I held her a bit tighter.

"Okay. That's it, no more washcloths. We're done with that part. You're doing a good job. Now I'm going to put on the Neosporin and the Band-Aids and we'll be done."

She pulls her hands from around my neck and shows them to me. They're scratched and red. I pressed a kiss to each one and took the washcloth from the counter where Fang put it. I put it on one of her little hands and then had her press the other down on top of it, hoping the cold water would soothe the sting.

Fang looked up at me and smiled after sticking the last Band-Aid to her skin. "Okay, babe. You did such a good job. Let me see those hands; do you want Neosporin on them too?"

She nodded, and he rubbed a little on each palm until it was mostly absorbed.

"Alright, are you ready to eat?" he asked.

"Yes. I'm hungry." She slid down from my lap and kissed Fang on the forehead. "Thank you, Fangy. Thank you, Max."

She gave me a sweet smile before walking stiffly out of the room; the Band-Aids made it hard to bend her knees, I'm sure.

"You ready to eat?" I asked. He doesn't answer and instead stares at me from where he's still kneeling on the ground. "What?"

"Nothing. You're just really good with her."

"Well, so are you. You're good at taking care of everybody." I was only good at imagining my little brother, whom I killed, was still alive so I could pretend to take care of him. As if that could bring him back.

"I'm only good at taking care of people who let me, Max."

He gave me a heavy look, and I felt myself growing annoyed. "You can't just slap a Band-Aid on me and expect me to be fixed, Fang," I almost spat. "It doesn't work like that. The _real world _doesn't work like that."

"Don't you think I understand that? I'm not an idiot. I don't expect you to just-poof- be all better one day. But you keep shoving me away, and my mom, and everyone who wants you to be okay." He sat back against the wall and wiped a hand down his face. "You shut everyone out and you're all alone in your head. And I'm sure that's a very dark place to be right now."

I could feel myself shutting down, just like he said, and my wall of defenses went up. The hatred and anger boiled up in my stomach, until I was practically shaking. "Just butt out, okay? I don't need you to pity me or worry about me or careaboutmebecause everything and everyone I get close to either leaves or _dies," _I hissed, and stood up to leave. He jumped to his feet and blocked my path. He didn't stand close to me or overpower me or even try to touch me, but he was still in my way.

"I'm not going _anywhere_,_" _he whispers. "I am right here."

My breathing became rapid, and my heart was thrumming so quickly I was afraid it would burst right out of my chest.

"Don't. Don't do this. Just, please move out of my way and leave me alone."

He shook his head, his eye boring into mine. I wonder what he saw when he looked at me. I wonder if it was something worth looking at.

A knock on the door made us both jump. "Guys, it's time to eat," Ella said. She sounded worried. "Mom said c'mon."

"Max, you can't just expect me to drop this and leave it alone. I can't. Don't you get that?"

The voices in my head started up, telling me I was dirty. Worthless. Nothing. I had to get out of this damn room before I used up all the air and suffocated. I didn't deserve Fang's care. I didn't deserve anything but the black hole in my head that sucked the life from my body like a vacuum.

"Fang, please," I choked. "Please let me out. I- I'm scared and I can't breathe and I just can't _do _this right now."

He looked up at the ceiling and closed his eyes. "You're in so much pain and I can't even help you. I can't do anything but watch you kill yourself slowly in your head. And I don't know why you matter so much to me, but you do. Okay? You do. You're a kind, caring person. And don't you tell me that you're not, because I saw you with Angel just now and I see the way you look at her when you think no one's watching. And whatever that bastard did to you that killed that part of your heart? Well, I hope he rots in hell for it- forever."

And with that, he turned, whipped the door open, and was gone.

**A/N So…I'll just leave this here. I hope you guys are enjoying the new chapters. Expect another one probably before Monday evening. Hopefully. Have a great Friday/weekend everyone!**


	9. Chapter 8

It was late; I think it was probably one or two in the morning. I wasn't exactly sure. All I knew was that I couldn't sleep and I had been staring at the underside of Angel's bunk for hours.

I still had Fang's thick comforter wrapped around me; I'd forgotten to give it back to him.

I'd been wondering why nobody ever seemed to go to school around here for a couple of days, and Ella told me that they were on some sort of extended Spring Break. They had to return on Monday, which was three days from now. I didn't really remember a whole lot about school. I was a young freshman, since I'd skipped sixth grade, so I guess I would have been a senior now if I hadn't dropped out at the beginning of sophomore year. I'd just been put into another foster home, and school seemed pointless. Actually, everything seemed pointless. Everything still seemed pointless.

I finally couldn't stand lying still for another minute, and swung my legs over the edge of the bed and heaved myself up. I dragged Fang's blanket behind me as I tip-toed to the bathroom across the hall. I flipped the switch and squinted into the light, waiting for my eyes to adjust.

I flinched when I caught sight of my reflection in the mirror. It was obvious to me that I'd lost weight since being here, even though Dr. M. pushed food on me like it was nobody's business. It was hard to keep yourself alive when all you wanted was to disappear.

Instead of instinctively turning away, like I usually did, I planted a hand on either side of the sink and stared at myself, long and hard. There were deep purple bruises under my eyes from lack of sleep, my self-cut hair framed my face jaggedly, and the bones beneath my sallow skin looked so fragile I could probably shatter every one of them if I rammed my head into the mirror right now like I wanted to.

Harsh whispers rasped through my ears and crawled down my shoulders like prickly-pokey vines, wrapping around my arms and torso and making it impossible to move or look away. I wanted to scream so loud I broke the spell or shattered every mirror and window in this house. I wanted to break into a million pieces, or just stand in the shower and melt down the drain or both.

"_You deserve this. You come here and talk me up every day. You're a tease."_

"Stop," I said, my voice like dead leaves against a sidewalk. The girl in the mirror smiled, the edges of her mouth sharp- as if knives had cut them.

"_You're a slut. You've always wanted me. You could never admit it, but now you don't have to. I know."_

I remembered crying when it was over, when he was done. I remembered he got up and pulled his pants back up, buckling and smiling down at me.

"_Thanks for the good time, Maxie." _

_He winks, and then pulls a box of cigarettes out of his back pocket as he disappears up the stairs. I lay there, naked and bound, my chest heaving. Shock. That's what this is. Shock courses through my veins and freezes me to the ground. _

_But right after shock, there is fear. I'm afraid that if I lay here for too long, he'll come back for round two. So I throw myself into a sitting position, even though the blood rushes to my head too fast and I get dizzy. I bite back a sob as I rip the duct tape off my wrists with my teeth. They're bleeding. _

_I find my shirt in the corner and my pants under his white wife-beater behind the couch. I keep my eyes on the stairway while I dress, ready to bolt if I hear so much as a creak. My whole body aches and screams in pain with every move, but I can assess the damage later. Right now, I need to get away before he causes anymore. _

_And then, as soon as my jeans are buttoned, I grab my shoes from beside the door and take off at a run down the street, leaving the door swinging on its hinges. I sprint, trying to leave the dirtiness behind. But it follows me; it's super-glued to my skin and twisted through my hair. _

"God." I gagged, and barely made it to the toilet before my small amount of dinner reappeared. I tried to be quiet and die from the inside out with as little noise as possible. This was definitely not something I would want to explain to anyone.

Even after I was sure I was done, I sat gasping for air over the toilet. The smell was putrid, so I flushed the vile mess down the pipes and sat back on my heels. My head pounded so hard the whole room looked like it was throbbing in time to my pulse.

I stood on wobbly legs and rinsed with mouthwash at the sink, avoiding eyes contact with my own reflection, and then fled the bathroom.

Not wanting to go back to Angel's room, I stood in the hallway for a while. I couldn't wake Ella; she'd ask too many questions. Dr. M. would probably freak out and move up my first visit to the shrink.

So I made my way to the end of the hallway and pressed my ear to the door. I could hear low murmuring on the other side followed by laughter- the sounds of a late night talk show. I rapped on the wood with my knuckles.

"Hey. Are you okay?" Fang asked in a low tone after he opened the door. I must have looked spacey or something, because he repeated the question. "Are you okay?"

Instead of answering, I sat down just before the carpet in the hallway became the carpet to his bedroom. He looked down at me for a second before nodding in understanding and following my lead.

"It's not like I want to be broken," I said in a voice so quiet I was surprised he even heard me. But he nodded again and waited for me to continue. "I just don't know how to not be afraid anymore."

His face morphed into utter sadness, and I slid sideways to lay my head on the carpet and close my eyes. I couldn't watch him give up on me.

"Max, I can't fix you."

Every word was like a physical blow to my chest. The one person who I thought wouldn't give up.

"I can't fix what's wrong in your head. Only you can do that. Only you can make the decision to repair whatever he snapped." The glow from the TV turned him into a dark silhouette. "But that does not mean that you have to go through any of this alone. You don't have to isolate yourself."

I tucked my chin into the neck of my shirt and tried to refuse the urge to cover my ears so I didn't have to listen anymore. "I'm so afraid. Every time I breathe, I smell him. Every time I sleep, it's his face that haunts my dreams. I can't get away from him. And I am terrified he will find me and get me again."

"He won't. He won't, I promise-"

"Don't make promises you can't keep. The only way he could never get me again is if he were dead. Sometimes, I feel like the only way I'll ever be safe is if I kill him." My voice sounded too loud in contrast to the sleeping house.

I peeked up through my lashes to watch his face as I said those awful words, expecting to see shock or disgust or even fear, but there was nothing but sadness.

"I could do it, too." My friend, Rachel, keeps a gun at one of her pick-up houses. I know where it's hidden." At this point, I was only saying these things to wipe that pathetic, sad look off Fang's face. He looked at me as if I were a puppy on the side of the road- as if I couldn't do anything wrong or bad. He didn't know anything about me before I came here. I was _not _a good kid. I smoked, drank, and did drugs. Why do you think I was even at the shit-hole Chris called a home? Because he shared his dope with pretty girls, that was why.

I just never thought he'd expect payment for it, eventually.

I started to think, though- everything I told Fang was true. Rachel did have a gun, and I did know where it was. I could actually do it, and then I could be safe. Forever.

Fang shifted so that he was lying down in front of me, moving very slowly and watching me the whole time. His face was too close to mine, and I pulled back and looked away.

"Why are you still awake?" he asked. His voice was soft and sleepy, and the sound of it calmed my frazzled nerves.

"I could ask you the same question." I smothered a yawn. "I can't sleep. I can never sleep. I have nightmares."

"I'm sorry." His dark eyes caught mine and held them. "I'm sorry."

My eyes dropped closed so I didn't have to watch him watch me.

"Max," he whispered.

"Hmm?"

"Can I push your hair away from your face?"

My breath froze in my chest in I felt every muscle in my body tense up at the idea of him touching me.

"Yes."

He asked permission. Nobody ever asked permission. And he didn't want to touch me for his own pleasure or gain- he just didn't want my hair to be in my face. I should've said no. I should've been scared. I should've told him nobody was allowed to touch me and then I should've gone back to bed.

And yet- I didn't. And I don't know why.

His hand was warm as it brushed across my cheekbone, taking the tickly hairs with it. I tried to distinguish between this touch, and Christopher's. I shuddered, the feelings mixing and weaving and being jumbled in my brain. There was steady pressure on the back of my head, so I focused on that.

It was different- I had to keep telling myself that. This was warm and gentle and kind. It wasn't harsh and unforgiving. The touch lingered for a moment longer before the warmth withdrew. I drew the blankets around my shoulders tighter and opened my eyes.

"I won't hurt you." He put his hand on the carpet between us. Middle ground. "What he did- it was disgusting. Vile." His voice grew angrier. Rage was etched into his features.

"I should've stopped him," I whispered. "I should have left with my friend. I should've-"

"_No._ No. Don't you blame yourself. This was not your fault. It doesn't matter what you did or what you said or didn't say. He had no right to touch you after you said no. He had no right to disrespect the rights you have to your own body." His hand reached out for mine, and I pulled away. I couldn't. I just couldn't.

He looked hurt and didn't say anything. But I couldn't let this go. I couldn't hurt his feelings without at least trying to explain.

"I just- I feel so sick whenever anyone touches me or looks at me or even breathes on me that I feel like I'm going to explode. I feel like I want to die." Images ticked by like a slideshow in my head. They horrified me; they all made me feel dirty, guilty, and so full of shame. I hated myself for making such a- a monster want me.

I was angry. Every time Christopher's rat face flashed through my head- which was several awful times a day- white hot rage ignited in my belly, and I didn't even know why. I had so many thoughts and feelings and emotions swinging through my brain, and I wanted it all to just _stop._ I wanted to get off the ride and rest a while. I wanted to stop existing all together, but I didn't exactly want to die. I wanted to be able to cry again.

"Can I sleep here," I asked. There was something oddly peaceful about this place on the floor outside his room. I felt- well, not quite safe. Something a bit less than safe.

"Of course. Here-" He stood up and pulled something off his bed, then dropped to his knees. "Lift up."

I did as he said, and he slid a fluffy white pillow under my head. "Thank you…Nick."

"You're welcome." His smile was small, but it was there.

"Will your mom mind if I sleep in the hallway?"

"Who cares? She knows you're going through a pretty rough time right now."

'Rough time' was the understatement of the century.

"Thank you," I said again, and let myself drift a bit. "Don't touch me while I sleep," I added in a drowsy haze.

"Never. Never without your permission," was the last thing I heard before I let go.


	10. Chapter 9

"Max, could you explain to how you're feeling right now?"

Pissed. Disgusted. A little hungry. "I'm _fine._" I looked at the wall-clock above her head; I'd been here for half an hour and those were the first two words I'd said.

I picked at the fuzzy blanket over my lap and avoided making eye contact with the therapist behind the desk. She was boring holes into the side of my head and trying to get me to 'talk about my feelings.'

_As if._ Therapy was for whiny, rich babies. I didn't need to _talk. _I needed for everyone to just leave me the hell alone.

"Max, I am here to help you. That's all I want to do."

"No, that's all you're getting _paid _to do."

Dr. Robertson sighed and pulled her glasses off, tossing them onto the desk and sitting back in her chair to study me.

"Yes, I get paid to give you treatment. But would you rather waste the money other people are spending on you, or would you like for me to _help_ you?"

"Did you ever think that maybe I don't want help? That I don't need it? That I don't _deserve_ it?" I yelled, standing up and letting the ugly blanket slide to the floor.

"You don't deserve to feel okay about yourself?"

Her question stopped me cold as I realized I'd just screwed up. I'd practically given her a key to my head.

"You just want to fit me into a neat little diagnosis and collect your two-fifty and hour," I spat and curled my fingers into fists. "You don't care about me."

"How would you know that?" she countered. "You don't let anyone _close_ enough _to_ care."

"You don't _know_ me."

"Because you won't let me!"

I raised my eyebrows and stepped back, stunned that she'd actually raised her voice at me.

"Yeah, well, bite me." I threw myself back down onto the couch, leaning over and scooping the blanket back up to cover myself up with. It was freezing in this damn room.

"Please, since we're here- just tell me. Why don't you feel you deserve to be helped?"

"You want to know why?" I asked, leaning forward and lowering my voice to just above a whisper, but keeping the hard edge to it. "Because he raped me and I didn't stop him. I lead him on for weeks. I'm a slut and a whore and he knew it, and he made sure that I knew it too."

I crossed my arms and sat back again, thinking I'd finally shut her up.

"Let me ask you a question- whose body is it?"

"This is so stupid-"

"Just answer the question- is it your body or his body?"

"Mine."

"And who has the right to touch it?"

I rolled my eyes. "I do, but-"

"And who did not have the right to touch it?"

"Him." I sucked on the inside of my cheek and stared at the floor.

"And who _did_ touch it without permission?"

I felt panic rise up in my throat as I thought of his sharp nails scratching at my legs, my arms, my chest. I shuddered and closed my eyes, willing the images away. "Him."

"This was _not_ your _fault_, Max. And we can't get anywhere in your treatment until you realize that."

The timer on her table buzzed, startling the both of us.

"Max, I think we may have made a little progress today. Will I see you next week?" She stood up and came around the desk to the door, gesturing for me to follow.

Not if I can help it. "Maybe."

"Alright, I hope to see you then." She patted my shoulder- not noticing my flinch at the contact- on my way out.

I rolled my eyes again and went out into the lobby, expecting to see Dr. Martinez and instead being greeted by Fang's smiling face. He stood up when he saw me and made his way over to me.

"Hey," he said, handing me a large Styrofoam cup. "How'd it go?"

"I'd rather not talk about it right now, okay?" I sucked on the straw, thankful for the cold, syrupy taste that washed down my throat. Coke- yum. "Thanks for the soda."

"Sure. Hey, my mom told me to take you to the mall and get you some new clothes. She said yours were looking a bit threadbare."

I glanced down at my faded t-shirt, jeans, and tennis shoes with holes in the soles. "She may be right. But I would rather you guys didn't spend any more money on me."

"It's her job, now. The papers got transferred a lot quicker than what we thought, and you will officially be my mom's responsibility by Thursday." He grinned, and then quickly added, "Which is a good thing."

I stared at him and sipped on my soda for several brief seconds before shrugging. "Fine. But I only want one pair of jeans and a couple tops. And we're going to a thrift store, not the mall. I hate the mall. Too many people."

He smiled and nodded. "Deal."

We sat in the car in the parking lot of some fast-food place, munching on cheeseburgers and fries, about an hour and a half later.

"What's your best childhood memory?" Fang asked around a mouthful of French fries.

I swallow and sip my second soda of the day, thinking. "Going to the beach."

"That's it? That's all you're going to give me?" He laughed and wiped his fingers on his jeans.

"Well, okay," I began, shrugging and staring out the window at the dark storm clouds above our car. "My brother got sick a lot when he was little, so we didn't get to go many places. He wanted to go to the beach so badly, and the doctor's finally told us to just take him."

I blinked, and suddenly I wasn't staring at a grey-cast sky in a sketchy parking lot. I was watching the tide come in, the water sparkling with the bright rays of the sun. Ari's laughter echoed in my ears, and I shook my head to clear it.

"I'd never seen him so happy. He was running and splashing in the waves and picking up seashells. He threw bread at seagulls- and I don't mean he just tossed it up at them. He chunked _entire_ slices of bread as hard as he could."

I laughed a little, thinking about it. "And he tried to make sand-angels, but didn't realize how hot it'd be on his back." I laughed harder, images coming faster and faster. I couldn't remember the last time I'd laughed like this- the deep, belly-laughs bubbling up past my teeth.

"Are you alright?" Fang asked. I waved him off and gasped for air.

"He was the sweetest kid. I just remember watching him play and wishing the moment would never end. He made sand castles just so he could knock them down."

"Max, you're crying," Fang whispered, and I raised a hand to my cheek. It came back wet, and I stared at my fingers in shock. Somewhere along the line, my laughter had turned to tears. _Real _tears. I hadn't cried in forever, and it was as if a dam had been broken.

"Oh, God," I gasped, leaning forward and bracing myself on the dashboard. My heart felt like it was being ripped from my chest.

"Max, what happened? Where is Ari?"

I remembered that I'd lied to him about Ari the first time he asked. I'd told him he was alive. Outside, thunder boomed and the sky opened up to pour on the world. It pattered against the windshield, making music with nature.

I couldn't breathe; I was hyperventilating. I was going to die if I didn't get out of that car. I gripped the door-handle and pushed, but it wouldn't open. I threw my full body weight against it twice before Fang yelled, "Max! _Max_!"

"I need-" I broke off with a sob. "I-I need out, now."

He hit the unlock button on his side, and I practically fell out of the passenger side. I sat on the curb, hugging my knees to my chest and choking on my cries. Rain plastered my hair to my face and my clothes clung to my frame. I hadn't noticed until then how gaunt I'd gotten- my figure was completely gone; it had wasted away, just like the inside of my head.

I shivered as raindrops slid down the collar of my shirt and ran down my spine, and I rocked myself back and forth gently. Two black sneakers appeared in front of me, and I looked up.

Fang kneeled before me, his head down to catch my eye. "What happened to him, Max?"

"He-he died." I sniffed and pushed my wet hair off my forehead. I let out a shaky cry as Fang sat next to me on the curb, shoving his hands into the pockets of his hoodie. "He's dead and I killed him."

"Max, I'm sure you didn't-"

"_No,"_ I yelled. "No. He's dead because of me. My parents are dead because of me." I buried my face in my hands and let everything out. Every tear I couldn't cry came pouring down my face. I couldn't tell what was from me and what was rain.

"Everything is my fault," I muttered between my fingers. "Everything is always my fault. None of this would have happened if I just-"

"Max." Fang turned and put his hands on my shoulders. I stared at him wide-eyed, in shock that he'd grabbed me that way. "Stop."

"You don't understand!" I hissed, shoving his hands away. "I'd just gotten my license and I was driving everyone to the movies. It was storming- I'd never heard thunder that loud." I closed my eyes, remembering the blur of the windshield and the rattle of the windows with every thunderclap. "I'd gotten a text message and looked away for a second."

My voice caught and I shoved my fingers against my lips to contain the sob threatening to shred my throat. "We'd swerved into the path of a red pick-up going sixty in a fifty mph zone. My dad, in the passenger seat, died on impact. My mother and Ari died en route to the hospital.

"The doctors said it was a medical miracle I was even alive." I laughed without any humor. "I should have been brain dead, but I was awake and talking the next day. I wanted to get out of that bed and kill myself as soon as possible."

"But you didn't," Fang said. He reached for my hand, and I let him. I deserved the pain and disgust and self-loathing that being touched brought me.

"I should have."

And I still wanted to.

"C'mon, let me take you home. You're going to get sick again from sitting out in this rain." He stood up and pulled me with him, then opened my door and helped me into the car. I shivered as the AC blew across my soaked clothes and damp skin.

At the first stoplight we rolled up to, Fang twisted around and grappled for something in the backseat.

"What are you doing?" I asked, hiccupping.

"Here." He handed me a fleece blanket, then accelerated sharply. I wrapped myself in it and let my eyes close, signaling that I was done talking.


End file.
